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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778371">Flower Petals</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fleur deserves better, I really like Fleur's character, lol I have no clue what I am doing, send help</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:27:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a Fleur appreciation post/rant.  Feel free to drop by and give some constructive criticism.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Flower Petals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Fleur Delacour was 8, a boy flipped up her skirt.</p><p>Mortified, she ran to her mother, who was sitting on the playground bench.  “It was innocent,” her mother had explained.  “Just boys being boys.”</p><p>Next time Fleur went to the playground, she wore shorts.</p><p>***</p><p>When Fleur Delacour was 10, she wasn’t allowed to play Quidditch.</p><p>With one foot out the door and a call to the neighborhood kids on her tongue, her father grabbed her arm.  “It’s a game for boys.”  her father had excused.  “Go help your mom with the chores, mon bijou.”</p><p>That night, she snuck out to the broom shed, but all the brooms had been hidden.  </p><p>***</p><p>When Fleur Delacour was 14, she sobbed in a Beauxbatons broom closet.</p><p>She clutched a letter from home, informing her of her dear great-grandma’s passing.  The wails racked her body, as she mourned her loss.  When Fleur finally emerged that night, her friend reprimanded her appearance.  “Seriously, Fleur.”  the friend scolded.  “Just get some water proof mascara!”</p><p>	Later that week, Fleur got water proof makeup and bewitched her friend’s makeup with a pimple jinx, for good measure.</p><p>***</p><p>When Fleur Delacour was 16,  she was called a whale.</p><p>Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she shouted that she was nothing of the sort, but the bullies were having none of it.  “If you wanted to become an animagus, you could have just used the potion.”  her tormentors sneered.</p><p>Fleur skipped dinner that night.</p><p>***</p><p>	When Fleur Delacour was 18, she was a whore.</p><p>This time, however, the jeers didn’t daunt her.  </p><p>Let them say what they will say, nothing will stop them.  Let them hear what they will hear, for they chose to listen.  Let them think what they will think, their thoughts are untameable.  </p><p>No, Fleur had more important things on her mind.  </p><p>A boy was dead.  A dark wizard was back.  And Fleur had a fire in her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!  Feel free to comment any suggestions to help improve my writing.  They are very appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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